The Rick Wars
by The-dead-make-no-sound
Summary: An old photograph forces Rick to tell Morty the truth about his absence from the family in the past 30 years - about the Rick wars, C-137 Rick, his original family and his original Morty.
1. Chapter 1

**Prologue: _Digging_ **

"Uuu, Rick, what's this?" Morty asked, emerging from the pile of junk he had been rummaging through.

The worn wood was smooth in his hands as he held it up to the light, the glass failing to catch the suns rays due to the thick layer of dust on its surface.

Rick turned and answered with a grunt, preoccupied with the metal contraption in his hands - a gun of sorts.

"I-It's looks like a photo, an old photo," Morty added as he wiped away the grime with his fingers, "it is a photo...of me and Summer-"

Before Morty could continue, Rick snatched the frame out of his hands.

"It's nothing, M-Morty. Probably your Mom's or something," he said, removing the precious photo from the old frame and stuffing it into his lab coat - make a trade for his flask.

"Aw jeeze, Rick, are you sure, R-Rick? I was w-wearing green, and Summer had bangs. I mean, I don't think Summer has ever had bangs, and I h-hate green," he replied, watching Rick suspiciously as he gulped down booze.

"Really, Morty? Are you sure? I'm sure at one point Summer m-may have had bangs. Try not to overthink it-" a burp interupted his sentence, "Morty, it's just a photo, y'know, Morty." Rick quickly turned back to suckling his flask, barely breathing as he gulped down every drop.

"I-I-I don't think so, Rick. I mean, Summer also had brown eyes, but her eyes are blue," Morty rubbed the back of his neck. "A-and we w-were like ten. I was like ten. I di-didn't even know you when I was t-ten," he added, his stutter brought to the surface as his palms began to sweat.

Rick's shoulders grew tense as he looked at his Morty - the teen's brow raising as he anticipated the next words to leave his grandsons mouth. Rick's hand shook as he raised his flask to his mouth, only to find it empty at his lips.

"R-rick, did you have another M-Morty? Am I n-not your first Morty?"

"God dammit, Morty! You ask too many questions-" burp "M-Morty! Just shut up, you piece of shit!" Rick couldn't hold it in. His hand shook wildly and he threw his flask to the ground to draw the attention away from the quivering, the hollow metal ringing like a bell as it met the concrete garage floor.

Morty flinched, squeezing his eyes shut to muster any courage he had in his skinny body. "A-Am I not your first Morty?" He questioned, opening one eye as the noise faded.

Rick stood hunched, almost defeated, his brow furrowed over his eyes and he scowled at the ground.

"Am I your f-"

"Yes, Morty, you conceited piece of shit, you're the original Morty from earth C-137. Happy?" Rick snapped, turning to look at his Morty as he cowered away from his anger.

"Aw jeeze, Rick, I didn't mean-" Morty suddenly saw Rick's scowl fade, and it sent a shiver right to his core. He'd never truly seen Rick look sad.

"But... That doesn't mean," A burp rumbled in the back of his throat, "I am the original Rick."

"W-what? Y-you... What?"

"Before the R-Rick Wars, Morty, I was F-348 beta 9 Rick. "


	2. Chapter 2

**(a/n) so usually I wouldn't put anything up tht was this short unless it was a teaser, like the last chapter, however I've lost a bit of my muse, and could overall use some feedback so I know what I'm doing well and not doing well, so here's a short chapter. (May be edited later)**

**** 30 years before ****

Beth shifted from the couch as a knock came at the door with a groan. Her feet scuffed against the floor as se dragged herself away from her relaxation, and towards an uninvited guest.

She opened the door, huffing out a breath in annoyance, but freezing when she saw her father standing before her, clad in an white military uniform and decorated with medals.

"Da-" she stopped herself from calling him Dad. The Rick before her couldn't be her Dad, as he had spent the afternoon in the garage, as he always did. "Can I help you?"

"You must be F-348 beta 9's Beth. Is F-348 beta 9 here?" Unlike her father, this Rick spoke without a stutter. The authoritative tone sounded strange in his voice.

"Uh, yes? He was here for breakfast," Beth said unsurely. It was common for her Dad to be present for breakfast, but to have disappeared with her son by half nine. The silence from the garage didn't always mean emptiness, so she cross her fingers and hoped.

"Give him this when you see him," The soldier said, handing her an envelope. Beth examined her fathers typed registration number on the front, and the Rick council crest stamped in the corner. "It is important."

His medals jingled like bells as he turned on his heels and disappeared across the lawn. Beth closed the door, holding the envelope in a shaking hand. Her father had never gotten such an official letter before, and never from another Rick.

"DAAAD!" She called into the house, "There's a letter for you!"

She waited for a reply, and when none was given she set the letter by the garage door, eyeing it as she returned to the couch. Her mouth went dry as her mind ran through thousands of scenarios. She'd already lost her mother just three years before, and she'd grown used to having her Dad live with her since then. She didn't want to lose him.

\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\

Tension hung in the air like a storm cloud, bringing the misery of a rainy day to the table. The Smith family ate in silence, holding cutlery with white knuckled grips.

"Rick," Jerry began softly, relaxing as the maddening sound of silver scrapping against plates faded away, and the silence was replaced with his voice, "Beth and I, well, we just wanted to know, y'know, what that letter said?"

Rick remembered the feeling of the crisp paper in his hand, and the stab in the chest as he read the print. Beth saw worry flash across her fathers face as he licked his lips and reached into his coat for his flask.

He brought it to his lips and downed a swig of the liquid courage, hoping he would have the strength to tell his family the news.

"Well, JeERRry, there's a war," he said as he screwed the cap back onto his flask and returned it to its place, "and all Ricks have been call-called t-to arms, or something. Basically, M-Morty and I are leaving in the morning aANd we have to go fight."


End file.
